Shades of Grey
by Silver Weasley
Summary: There is more to Severus Snape than meets the eye, and perhaps a little trip down memory lane will convince Harry Potter as well. Venture into Snape's Pensieve and see a little boy grow up into the man we all know and love[er, hate].
1. Prologue

**_Shades of Grey_**

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling wrote the books; I'm biding my time until Book Seven with a few stories of my own.

**Summary: **

There is more to Severus Snape than meets the eye, and perhaps a little trip down memory lane will convince Harry Potter as well. Venture into Snape's Pensieve and see a little boy grow up into the man we all know and love (er, hate).

**Dedication: **_To Christina, my most devoted reader—er—listener. This one's for you._

**Author's Note:**Well, first off, I must admit, I'm one of those annoying "Snape-Isn't-Evil-And-I-Will-Prove-It-BWAHAHAHA!" type of people, and though I've done a little oneshot about him and his "goodness," I didn't think I did the poor old guy justice. So, be prepared. I am attempting, along with my other new multi-chaptered fic, to write a ::gasp:: long story. I want to update as often as possible, and I am determined to finish it. So, here come Snape's memories. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Prologue **

"Ah, Potter. I daresay I've been expecting you." The tall, sallow-faced man smiled rather nastily from the doorframe, absentmindedly pushing greasy hair out of his cold, black eyes.

"Snape." Harry Potter's voice was soft and dangerous, his green eyes glistening darkly behind his glasses.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Severus Snape asked archly, raising a brow. "I expect you're here to kill me. Do come in." Hardly blinking an eye, the seventeen-year-old followed his former professor into the dank-looking house on Spinner's End, his white-knuckled grip on his wand tightening.

"So," Snape said, beckoning him forward into the foyer, "I can hardly say it's a pleasure to see you, Potter, but I am neither surprised nor concerned. You may kill me, if you wish." Stopping dead in his tracks, Harry glowered at the man who stood before him—the man he hated most in the world (excepting Voldemort).

"And you're just going to stand there and let me, are you?" Harry asked in a grating voice, a feeble attempt to keep his temper from getting the better of him. "Don't give me that, you unbelievable _bastard. _I've searched everywhere for you, d'you understand that? _Everywhere. _Look at you, you don't even have your wand out—you think I'd kill a defenseless, unarmed man? I'm not like a Death Eater, Snape. I'm not like _you._"

"Do not try me," Snape said in a deadly voice, his dark eyes narrowed. "I am far from defenseless, Potter. Even you must know that, limited as your cerebral capacities may be."

"Get off your high horse," Harry snapped. "I didn't come here without back-up." He managed a smirk worthy of Draco Malfoy. "Hey, even _my _cerebral capacities aren't that limited."

"Clever," Snape said nonchalantly. "Still the same Boy-Who-Lived-to-Plague-My-Existence, I see." Briskly, the ex-professor strode across the room to an ancient old cabinet, opening the doors, and extracting a stone basin. "Potter, we can do this the hard way, or the very simple way. It is up to you."

"How about we do it _my _way?" Harry asked angrily, his hands shaking. "You're in no position to be calling the shots, Snape. You killed Albus Dumbledore—has that registered yet? You _killed _the greatest wizard in the entire bloody world, and you are going to pay. So here's how it's going to work: you are going to explain to me your exact reasons for killing Professor Dumbledore, then I will call my back-up and you will be escorted to the Ministry of Magic, where you will receive a trial, as fair as any are willing to give you. Then, if and when you are found guilty, the Dementors will administer the Kiss, and you will spend the rest of your soulless days in a cell in Azkaban. Got that, Snape?"

"Potter, you never were any great shakes at intelligence, but I see in the time we've been"—here, Snape sneered delicately—"_separated, _your I.Q. has taken a rather noticeable dip. You have chosen the very hard way, and though it pains me to do this, you leave me no choice."

"If I have to Stupefy you, tie you up, and force-feed you Veritaserum to get you to tell me why you murdered Professor Dumbledore and how you even fooled him to begin with, I will! Don't play games, Snape, you're not in charge here anymore."

"All right, Potter, I shall give you your wish," Snape said, in a sinisterly agreeable way. "Come." Harry once again tightened his grip on his wand, and

cautiously made his way across the room.

"What is it you've got there?" he demanded harshly, nodding at the basin.

"Surely you recognize this, Potter," Snape remarked. "It is the Pensieve. But before I—ah—_tell _you of my reasons for killing the Headmaster and how I came to be what I am, I will first state that you are, quite simply, the densest child I have ever encountered."

"You bloo—"

"Do not interrupt me while I am speaking," Snape directed idly, watching his former pupil's face turn crimson with fury. "I do not doubt you will have plenty to say when I have finished. So, where was I? Oh, yes—you and your incomparable stupidity." He sneered distastefully at Harry. "You see merely black and white, taking everything at face value, and never for a moment stopping to ponder the grey areas and what they might mean. Why, you fail to imagine, am I such a…what was the word you used? _Bastard_? My, my, where _do _you come up with these original invectives?" Ignoring Harry's furious glower, and practically feeling the hate radiating off of him, Snape continued. "Your witless insults aside, boy, you do not question motives or reasons, or even alternate scenarios. Instead, what you see and believe becomes the only truth you know, and never once do you stop in your quest for revenge to ask if perhaps you are wrong."

"Do you have a point, Snape?"

"Yes, Potter, I do." Snape gestured towards the Pensieve. "Have a look, by all means." Apprehensively, Harry peered down at the swirling, misty contents of the familiar Pensieve. The faces of several children and a scarlet train engine swam in and out of focus. "Do you want to understand why I am the way I am?" Snape asked quietly, his gaze boring into Harry's. "Do you want to know why I killed Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Harry answered, his voice cracking with fury, "I do."

"Well," Snape said smoothly, "let's go, then, Potter." And before Harry could stop him, before he could think to protest, Snape had jerked him forward sharply into the Pensieve, and the world went momentarily black.


	2. The First Train Ride

**Disclaimer: **J.K. owns Harry and Co, but the words here belong to me.

_**ooo**_

**Chapter One**

Harry hit the ground hard, and it took him a moment or two to catch his breath.

_Where am I? _he thought dazedly, sitting up shakily and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Get up, quickly," a familiar, oily voice commanded, yanking Harry up by his elbow.

"What the—Snape, I never agreed to this! Let me out of here!"

"No," Snape said calmly. "This is my memory. You may not leave unless I wish it, and you won't until I'm satisfied."

"You—"

"Be quiet, and pay attention. This will give you a more accurate and detailed account than I ever could." Snape smirked, looking more evil and bat-like than ever. "Look around, Potter." Fuming, Harry did as he was told, and stopped short.

He was standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and a tiny, dark-haired little boy was standing next to a worn-down looking woman, talking quietly to her. Snape swept off towards them, and Harry followed.

"Don't forget to write, Severus," the woman who could only be Snape's mother said quietly. "I shall miss you."

"Goodbye, Mother," the young Snape said very formally. "I'll see you at Christmas." He shrugged out of her embrace, and leaned down to awkwardly maneuver his trunk up the steps to the train. Harry and the older Snape followed him, watching as he struggled to store his things, and then exited the luggage carriage with him as he looked for a compartment. Harry studied the young Snape, who was merely a shadow of the formidable man he would one day become. His hair was rather shorter than the present day Snape's (though just as greasy, Harry decided), and his nose didn't seem quite as large, somehow. The boy also didn't seem to possess the self-confidence and easy grace he would one day acquire—he was almost skulking, a timid look Harry had never seen plastered across his face; he was hardly swooping about, scowling at people like the Snape Harry knew and hated.

Finally, Snape stopped at a compartment, knocking sharply on the door.

"Yeah, come in," a boy called, and Snape awkwardly slid through the door (Harry just managed to slip in after him before he banged it shut).

"Hello," Snape was saying to four boys (they looked to be about his age). "Could I join you?" Three of the boys stared blankly back at him, but one of them, this one with sandy hair and a tired expression said,

"Sure, we've got room." He gestured to a seat, and Snape sat, rather uncomfortably.

"Remus Lupin," the sandy-haired boy said, extending a welcoming hand. "Pleasure to meet you." Harry's mouth dropped open—for some reason, he hadn't been expecting...these were the Marauders as children? It seemed almost laughable.

"I'm Severus Snape," Snape was saying, a bit coolly.

"Snape, eh?" a boy who could only be Sirius asked gruffly. "I've heard of your family—oh, I'm Sirius Black, by the way."

"Yes, I've also heard of your family," Snape said politely. "I believe your mother knows mine."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"I'm James Potter," a boy said suddenly, adjusting his glasses.

"And I'm Peter Pettigrew," the last boy announced. "Are you a first year too…er, Steven?"

"Severus," Snape corrected. "And yes, I am."

There was a rather prolonged and uncomfortable silence.

"Well," Remus began, but the door to the compartment slid open, and a girl with two bright red braids entered, a large bag slung across her shoulder.

"Hullo!" she said brightly. "I hate to intrude, but I need a place to sit—do you mind—?"

"No, no," James said at once. "There's a seat…just there…" As the girl sat, everyone went around and introduced themselves one more time, and she smiled when they had finished.

"Nice to meet you all," she said cheerfully. "I'm Lily Evans. Now, you'll have to tell me all about Hogwarts and wizards and things so I don't look too much the fool when we get there. I've only read one book so far." She was met with absolute silence. "Erm…my parents are—what's that word? The…the 'M' one—the one you use for non-magical people?"

"Muggles," Peter supplied helpfully.

"Oh, yes, thank you," she said, smiling at him. "So I know next to nothing about magic, you see." Harry had been watching his mother in fascination since she'd entered the compartment, but he now let his gaze wander over to eleven-year-old Snape, who was regarding Lily with a haughty expression that Harry knew all too well.

_The git, _Harry thought angrily, watching Snape look at Lily with utmost contempt.

"A Muggle-born," Snape finally said delicately, his expression now unreadable. "I've never had the pleasure of meeting one of your kind before." James was staring at Snape, looking thoroughly suspicious.

"Led a sheltered life, have you?" he asked Snape quietly.

"Far from it," Snape said, anything but intimidated.

"You don't have a problem with Muggle-borns, do you…_Severus?_" Now, Snape looked a tad regretful.

"I'll let you decide that," he said softly. "_James."_

"Lily, there are two things you should know about wizards," Sirius said in a very loud voice, his eyes narrowed at Snape. "First of all, there are the good kinds of wizards, like us, who don't care about your heritage one way or the other." He gestured to himself, Peter, Remus, and James. "Then, there are the git-like kinds of wizards, like _him"_—he pointed at Snape—"who hate anyone who's not pureblood and never wash their hair." Harry winced inwardly.

"What was that, Black?" Snape was on his feet now, his fists clenched.

"This girl hasn't done anything to you," James said, his voice rising as he got to his feet as well. "You think you're so much better than her just because you're some little pureblood, dirty, big-nosed prat?"

"I didn't say anything about her!" Snape said hotly.

"Stop it," the girl said, frowning at them. "He's right, he hasn't said one mean thing! Just…just drop it." But James and Sirius looked far from "dropping it."

"I know about you," Sirius said coldly, his face dark. "Spoiled little prat you are—and look here, not even pureblood. Your father's a Muggle, isn't he? What right have you to judge, Snape?"

"I think I'll leave, now," Snape spat. "I've wasted too much time with pathetic little Gryffindors and..." He eyed Lily. "…_Muggle-borns._"

"Nobody's been Sorted yet, Snape, but I already know where you'll be," James said angrily. "You're a Slytherin if I ever met one."

"Is that supposed to be an insult? I rather think it's a compliment—wouldn't you say so, Black?" For the first time since Harry had got sight of the young Snape, the boy sneered elegantly. Without warning, Sirius swung at Snape, hitting him in squarely in the nose. James joined in, kicking and hitting him while Lily screamed,

"Stop it—leave him alone, that's not fair!"

Remus was looking terrified and kept saying, "That's enough, now. James, Sirius, he's had _enough_," rather feebly, while Peter looked on warily. Snape got a few blows in, but he couldn't compete with the bigger and stronger boys, and they only laid off when he couldn't hold back his sobs.

"Crying?" Sirius spat. "I should've known."

"You—you—!" Snape managed to get to his feet, wiping a hand across his eyes shakily, smearing blood here and there. "You'll pay for that!"

"We'll see," James said frostily. "_Severus_—hah! More like Snivellus."

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

"Get out of my sight, _Snivellus," _Sirius told Snape, his eyes hard. "You're so pathetic."

Furious, defeated, and looking so miserable even Harry felt a bit sorry for him, the young Snape gathered his things and stormed out of the compartment. Lily had just begun to say, "I can't believe you would do something like that!" when the world began to fade, and Harry was leaving Snape's memory, and all those in it, behind.

**_ooo_**

**Author's Note: **So...reviews? Please? And yes, I know Sirius and James were like...uber-mean in this. Actually, my sister was about ready to kill Sirius when she read this. The only justification I can make is...well, Sirius and James are sort of impulsive and Sirius knew enough about Snape's family that he could draw conclusions. Also, James hates anything dark, and disliking Muggle-borns is dark, isn't it? So their eleven-year-old reasoning wasn't the best, but they're boys and rash and things like that. Also, in case anyone is wondering, Snape's little comment to Sirius about being called a Slythering a compliment, Sirius gets pissed because Snape is alluding to the fact that everyone in his family has been Slytherin for centuries. ::cough:: Just wanted to make that clear.

As for a little preview of chapter two: Snape's holiday after first year, complete with Lucius Malfoy. Hm, the two of them hanging out actually sort of creeps me out...o.O...yeesh, those Slytherins.


End file.
